


4am on Christmas Morning

by twosockles



Series: Winter 1992 [2]
Category: Futur Radio, Original Work
Genre: Hana is a good kid, M/M, Other, Romantic tension up to 11, Sharing a Bed, These two are really good at avoiding conversation about their feelings, They'd both do anything for her and unfortunately that was their downfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 17:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19010554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosockles/pseuds/twosockles
Summary: Part 2 to 'Goodnight'Of course, they can't avoid each other so easily after the events of the Office Holiday Party (Original post date: Dec 30 2018)





	4am on Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to read Part 1 before this!

4 AM on Christmas morning

Louie Wicken woke up just in time to watch the block shapes of the LED digital clock turn from 3:59 to 4:00. The distorting sensation of waking up in a different place washed over him, before it came back like an electric jolt: It was the early morning on December 25th, and he had been invited to spend the day with the Ross’s. He was currently in their upstairs guest room, which should have been evident from the lack of uncomfortable lumps in the mattress.

“We’ve got about two hours till Hana wakes us up for Christmas.”

There was also that.

Though Lou didn’t celebrate Christmas, he felt like he owed his time to the family that took him in over the summer. So when Lieutenant Ross brought it up, Lou agreed. He hadn’t know at the time that someone else happened to be included in the holiday tradition. Said someone was just as equally stubborn to not back down for who took the bed, so there they were. Sharing a double bed in someone else’s house.

“...Morning Riessner.” Lou tried his best to whisper through the gravel of morning voice sticking in this throat. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I’ve been up for a while.” There was a strained tone his whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Oh, you know.” There was a telling pause “…My thing.”

“Were you crying?”

There was quiet shuffling sound and a good long pause, before Lou realized Bec had turned his head towards him. Lou turned to do the same. It was too dark to make out any nuances, but Bec was most certainly giving Lou a classic “done with you being a smartass” frown. 

Lou countered with his classic: “Nevermind.”

The ceiling never looked better than it did this morning. 

“Hey.”

Lou hummed in response.

“Even if you aren’t excited about Christmas, you’ll fake it for Hana’s sake, right?”

“Of course.” There was no reason for him to even ask. There was plenty to be excited about. Besides watching an 8 year old drunk on Christmas cheer, there was also breakfast, mimosas and a mattress to sleep on. Having to share the bed was a tiny price to pay for it all. Yet under the buzz the preliminary celebration, Bec’s words turned sour in Lou’s head. Out of all the things to be faked, it should have been Lou calling out Bec. Or Bec calling out Lou. Everything between them felt like airs and fronts. They were faking everything being okay between them right now, and neither would break.

Lou felt like he was going to drown in his own thoughts. He momentarily forgot he was in the middle of a conversation.

“What did you get her?”

Lou blanked for a beat. “Oh uh, colour pencils. The nice kind. She wants to get into drawing. ‘Santa’ is giving her a sketchbook.

“Aw, that’s adorable.”

Lou turned his head to Bec. “I hope you know I didn’t get you anything.” 

“I hope you know that you’ve wounded me deeply.”

He knew Bec was being sarcastic. It did nothing to make him not feel a twinge of guilt.

“You got me something.”

“Of course I did!” There was the slightest hint of vocalization in Bec’s whisper.

“Well, now I feel a bit bad.”

“You could make it up to me.”

Lou’s mind immediately went to several dozen places where responding to that statement ended horribly. 

“...Alright.”

Lou also didn’t have a strong enough sense of preservation to counter his curiosity.

Bec paused. 

“You didn’t think I was going to say yes to that did you.”

More silence, then a small “No.”

“So you don’t have anything in mind?”

There was the briefest moment where Lou thought that was the end of it. Then Bec stretched out his arms towards Lou.

“Come cuddle with me.”

Somehow the conversation had wrapped itself all the way back to being in ‘worst possible outcome territory’.

“Seriously?” Lou’s voice sounded more defensive than exasperated like he intended.

“It’s all I got.” Bec let his arm fall back in the bed, “You don’t have to though, if you don’t want to.”

Faced with a dilemma between the last remaining shred of self-preservation and abolishing guilt, Lou grumbled as he shuffled himself to the center of the bed. Bec moved forwards a bit too, but Lou made no move to touch him.

“Is that all you’re going to do?”

“Yeah,” Lou breathed, “Probably. That okay?”

“I’ll take what I can get.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice and a soft shuffle of movement that sounded like a shrug.

Lou almost had a comeback for that. He opted for a more polite excuse. “It’s all I can give, so its all you can get.”

Too bad Bec knew him too well.

“You wanna bet you can’t?” Bec crooned the words, knowing full well Lou would take the bait. It wasn't hard to find out that Louie Wicken would do almost anything if you made it a challenge or a bet. A moment loaded silence occured as the two attempted a completely silent battle of wits in the dark. The tension broke alongside Lou, who sighed and resigned himself to the terrible fate of being in physical contact with Bec. Some kind of emotion in the anger family bubbled under Lou’s skin as Bec simultaneously adjusted himself to accommodate Lou’s presence. Once they had settled, Bec let his arm lay across Lou’s back.

The first thing that crossed Lou’s mind was that the notion of close contact was familiar; friends lazily draping an arm on his shoulders, flopping legs on his when there was no more space on the couch. Brief and without lingering intent. Louie had always been insatiable, starving on scraps of attention. Lying close to his coworker, he could almost imagine it was something affectionate.

If anyone had ever bothered to ask “What level of pathetic are you Louie Wicken?” he might begin by mentioning how he slept best with a warm water bottle because it made him feel less hollow. He was never awarded the right to call Basil Reissner ‘Bec’. Lou had heard it in passing one day and the sound had lodged its way into his head. Yet he had said it, to the other’s face no less. Lou wants to be told to never say it as much as he wants the rights to say it again. He wants to belong in that circle that he’s always standing just outside of.

Despite everything that had happened prior to this morning, they had arrived to this point. It didn’t make sense. Something was amiss.

“You’ve been acting different lately” Lou blurted out. Bec responded before Lou could stutter out an apology.

“It’s the weather. I hate the snow” That was true enough; Bec had complained like he was on the brink of a meltdown when the first few snowflakes had started to come down in late November. It still wasn't a sufficient explanation. 

Bec pulled the blankets up to cover them more, as if reminded of the cold. Lou felt the urge to push his hands away.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Louie,” He hated that tone, like he was a child that was being obtuse “Say what you mean.”

Lou‘s tongue felt like it was crawling down his throat. Say what you mean. Easy if you knew how to say it. 

“You play hot and cold with me, and I never know why.” It was as close as he could get.

Bec scoffed. “That’s real funny, coming from you.”

“You’re volatile,” Lou met Bec’s eyes as best as he could, “I can’t tell if you’re being nice to me, or trying to pull something over on me so you can laugh about it later with your friends.”

“I’m not a bully.”

“Then why” With every back and forth, they’s gotten closer. It was weird how lying down negated the height difference between them.

“Because,” whispered Bec ”You put up with me.” Bec pressed his forehead to Lou’s. “...Or something like that.” he whispered.

They were so close Lou could feel the air of every word.

“Are you trying to kiss me?” Another terrible move on Lou’s end. Tonight had been so full of them Lou had begun to lose count.

“I don’t know.” Bec’s words were soft, his breath barely a flutter.

“Oh,” said Lou, “Alright.” His voice felt hoarse; rough and too loud.

There was only two ways forward from this situation, and Lou wasn’t prepared to deal with the consequences of anything other than the current path they were on.

Lou leaned away.

There was a long moment of silence before Bec gently pulled Lou against his chest and Lou let the world consist of the feeling of the rise and fall of someone else's rib cage. He counted fifteen breaths before Bec spoke again.

“Are you okay?” It was weird feeling the vibrations of someone’s words, and Lou’s brain took an extra beat to process what he had said.

“...you’re really warm.”

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying this, because you are disturbingly cold.”

“Ha.” It wasn’t much of a drag, Bec always complained about being too cold.

Lou hoped that would be the end of the conversation and he could get a few more hours of sleep. 

“I’m still really sorry about the party.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lou hissed as loud as he could in a whisper, “Stop talking about it.”

“We haven’t really.”

They hadn’t, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t done and in the past in Lou’s mind. Bec hadn’t done it to force something on him or to harass him, he had been absolutely smashed. Lou felt bad for the fact Bec remembered it the next morning.

“If you feel bad about it, why did you suggest this?”

“You give nice hugs when you want to.”

Lou didn’t like hugs at all, and could not recall an instance where he had hugged Bec. Not having anything else to give to the conversation, Lou opted to stay silent.

It was a long while before the silence broke.

“I hope you know I’m not going to fall asleep like this.” In such a quiet room, the whisper felt like a rock against the glass.

“Spoil sport.” Bec’s voice sounded like he was already about to fall asleep.

“You literally kicked me out of bed last time, I’m pretty sure you’ll choke me to death in your sleep.”

Bec moved his arm off Lou.

“Fair.” He mumbled.

Bastard wasn’t even going to defend himself. Lou shuffled back to his side of the bed. Bec’s breathing evened out.

Lou was the one stuck awake now. Bec was closer than before, having stayed in their rendezvous position in the center of the bed.

There was a lot to think about. A lot to not think about. A lot to think about not thinking about. Somewhere behind closed eyes, he pieced it all together, only for it to fade away with his consciousness. 

Hana, right on time at six in the morning, threw herself onto the bed, startling the both of them awake.

**Author's Note:**

> I got caught up in exams and forgot how I wanted to write this, so it was a bit of a grind! I'm happy with the result though!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
